


Heat

by Lidsworth



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:12:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidsworth/pseuds/Lidsworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arima attends Taishi's wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea I had, like I know that Taishi's married, but I always could see he and Arima having a thing. Anyway, it's a little unbeta'd, so bear with me!  
> I don't own TG!

His suit had never felt so terribly constricting before. The white cotton collar felt like a chain around his neck, and once or twice he considered undoing his tie in a feeble attempt to pave way for some sort of cool circulation to run down his tight clothing. Though he figured that the small action would not go unnoticed in the timy church, and not to mention, it would be very inappropriate.

 

The fact that he'd managed to wedge himself in a crowd of overly zealous, emotional beings couldn’t have helped his bodily temperature either, as he never really learned how to regulate such a thing when out in public, partly, because Arima had never ventured out into public when he didn't need to.

 

So needless to say, Arima Kishou, for the first time in his entire life, was on the verge of losing his conscientiousness due to high temperature of body heat being circulated by the people in the pews.

 

That was a first.

 

The heat seemed to increase fervently within Arima's body, and his heart may have fallen a hundred feet below his ribcage, when suddenly, down the red isle, cascaded a celestial being, clad in clear white garments, fluttering like flurries of snow in a rare, March blizzard. She was the light, incredibly light, almost insanely, impossibly light.

 

Everyone seemed to be taken aback by the sheer beauty that Aki had carried about her, and a collective gasp filled the corridor. Arima shared the gasped, he supposed, but only for the purpose of gaining lost oxygen.

 

She was an angel of life, he was an angel of death.

 

Perhaps that was why Taishi hadn't chosen him, perhaps that's why Arima wasn't walking confidently down the plush isle, igniting the entire temple with heavenly rays of light and love. No, Arima was stuck in his own personal little hell, glued to a pew, being consumed by his own flames.

 

He didn't bring life anywhere, he brought death.

 

When he looked at the proud, tall Taishi, standing on the altar, beholding his future wife, his glasses grew slightly foggier, and his eyes burned to the rim with tears that he'd thought he'd extinguished long ago, during his unfortunate childhood before his time at the CCG.

 

It wasn't hard to dry them out again, though the fact that the wedding even garnered such tears worried him more than anything.

 

He tried to blame it on the heat. Though as the wedding vows flew deaf over his ears, and the tie around his neck became a strangling noose, and the heart that had fallen into the depths of his stomach disappeared into utter nothingness, the heat morphed into a deadlier, more insidious sensation that he hadn't had the pleasure of feeling in years.

 

Envy.

 

Envy, because he wasn't up on the grand alter, pouring out his heart (was Arima even capably of doing such a thing), promising companionship through a life of hardships and pain, promising a life full of joy and love...

 

Arima wanted to leave. He so badly wanted to leave, but he felt as if claws had latched themselves around his ankles, preventing him from leaving the corridor before the ending.

 

And he hated himself for feeling this way, for feeling so weak and so human.

 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
  
Arima left when the crowd nearly became its liveliness . Happiness wasn't a domain in which he yearned to dwell in, especially when he was lacking the emotion more than anyone in the church. The ceremony was over, and the newly weds were being showered with affection, as opposed to Arima, who in due time, would certainly be showered with blood.

 

_Everyone is moving on, aren't they?_

 

He walked fast, as if to not be noticed by anyone who may have recognized his face. And lukily for him, the door was feet away. Freedom was feet away. After this, he'd never look at Taishi again, he'd never have to look at him again. 

 

Hopefully, his love for the red head would die with his premature exit. 

 

Though, against his better judgment, he looked over his shoulders, white hair whipping as he did so. He stopped breathing as he locked eyes with Fura, who bore the same sort of sadness and surprise that Arima did. 

 

_You came?_ Asked the shocked eyes. 

 

Arima responded with a slow blink, scratching out the unnecessary,  _Good bye, Taishi._

 

_I'm sorry,_ spoke the unsaid words, that fluttered over the crowd like dying butterflies. Arima didn't look back after that, he refused to let himself be pulled into Taishi's sadness again. 

 

It was Taishi's mistake—Taishi's choice to succumb to the pressure of marriage, obviously, his love for Arima wasn't enough to hold him back. So Arima wouldn't forgive him, even as every fiber of his being begged him to, begged him to make up, to rekindle their destroyed friendship, to move on...

 

“I don't forgive you,” Arima whispered to himself, as he pushed open the large doors, and breathed in a gulp of fresh, afternoon air, “I never will.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I Hoped you loved it! I just thought their little exchange at Mado's memorial was rather old, so I wanted to play on that. Have a wonderful week, and God bless!


End file.
